Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 84 The Enslaved Free Man

The raid on Red Pine Manor was a decision made after discussion among the three warrant officers, not only because Lieutenant Colonel Contel, who had a lead bullet lodged in his abdomen, needed a doctor, but also because they urgently needed a channel to obtain information from the outside world.

The group's biggest problem was that they knew nothing about the battle situation. Had the Third Army launched a second offensive? In which direction was the offensive directed?
Winters and Andrei, in particular, both believed it was impossible to remain hidden in the Tanilians' vacuum indefinitely. Even if they wanted to remain concealed, it should be "active" concealment, meaning gathering intelligence as much as possible and then moving flexibly, rather than burying their heads in the sand like ostriches and praying the Tanilians wouldn't run into them.

For these reasons, Red Pine Estate became the most suitable target. The plantation owner had a high social status and was well-informed; moreover, Red Pine Estate was located in a remote area and was not easily exposed; most importantly, Kalman was a doctor—although it was said that he mainly treated illnesses by bloodletting.

Before Winters and Kalman could say anything, a decimator rushed in and whispered in his ear, "Something's happened. Three of our men have been killed."

Winters calmly left Kalman with Andrei and strode towards the door.

"What happened?" Winters asked calmly after leaving the residence.

But his sergeant panicked: "One of them went to check the houses on the west side, but he didn't come out. The other two went in to look for him, and the same thing happened."

This sergeant was a veteran of more than ten years, a senior sergeant, Winters's right-hand man, and trusted by several warrant officers, but even he was now covered in sweat and looked panicked.

“Take me there.” Winters frowned.

Outside the row of wooden houses on the west side of the residence, the remaining soldiers stood a few meters away from the doorway, craning their necks to look inside, but dared not approach at all.

The house was pitch black, and in the darkness, it seemed as if a wild beast lurked, devouring every speck of light.

The soldiers saluted when they saw Warrant Officer Montavi approaching. Bader, seeing that the raiding squad had succeeded, also arrived with two musketeers.

"What happened?" Bard asked softly.

“I don’t know either, I only know that three of our men went in.” Winters looked at the centurion: “Did they bring torches when they went in?”

"The second group that went in was attacked." The centurion explained anxiously, "But after our men went in, they screamed once, and then it went dark again. Centurion, there's definitely something sinister in there."

Is there a back door?

"No, there's only one door. One door to enter, one door to exit."

"Torch!"

A torch was handed to Winters, who drew his sword and, along with two other soldiers, crept into the pitch-black wooden hut.

The firelight reflected back from nearby, and two cloth curtains separated the wooden house from the doorway.

Winters used his sword to lift the curtain, behind which was another curtain, and there was no one there.

He cut the ropes holding the curtains and led the soldiers deeper into the room. The entire cabin was divided into smaller spaces by the curtains.

Suddenly, Winters heard a creaking sound from the wood overhead. Knowing something was wrong, he immediately took a step back.

But what attacked him moved incredibly fast, leaping down from the rafters and using the momentum to knock him over. It was then that Winters realized it wasn't some evil spirit, but a person.

The two soldiers who came in with him shouted twice and then fell silent, and their torches were extinguished.

Winters fell to the ground, his torch extinguished by a hand reaching out from behind the curtain. The attacker who jumped down pinned Winters down and wrestled with him, twisting Winters' right wrist almost 180 degrees.

Winters held the scimitar firmly in his hand, and suddenly, as he entered the darkness, his eyes, unaccustomed to the darkness, could see nothing. More people emerged from behind the curtain, trying to restrain Winters' limbs.

In his desperate moment, Winters slammed his head down on the raider. His forehead struck something hard, sending a jolt of pain through his skull.

But he clearly hit the right spot and delivered a heavy blow, causing the attacker to scream and release his grip on his right hand.

"Attack!" Winters shouted the signal, his freed right hand gripping the scimitar as he thrust it towards the enemy in the darkness.

However, there was no sensation of piercing a human body, and the opponent nimbly distanced themselves from Wen Tesla.

A hoarse, aged voice echoed from deeper within the house: "[Still a language Winters doesn't understand]"

The other hands that had been trying to hold Winters down were pulled away, and Winters, now completely free, stood up, supporting himself on the ground.

At this moment, Bard had already led the remaining soldiers to storm the wooden house.

In the firelight, Winters finally saw who was in the room.

A group of people with chains on their hands huddled together in a corner of the wooden house. Women and some children were at the very back of the corner, while the other men stood outside, protecting the women and children.

The group was vaguely led by an old man with a deeply wrinkled face. The old man leaned on a withered wooden cane and stood trembling in the crowd, as if a gust of wind could blow him over.

However, his eyes were bright and piercing.

“We don’t want bloodshed.” The old man looked at Winters, his voice hoarse like shards of glass being squeezed and rubbed together. He said in a broken, strangely accented Common tongue, “Uninvited guests.”

"Where are my soldiers?" Winters asked in a deep voice.

The old man uttered another phrase that Winters couldn't understand. Several thin, dark-skinned men responded and carried out Winters' subordinates, who had disappeared after entering the house, from behind another corner.

Bud immediately bent down to check and placed his hand on the soldier's neck.

After checking, Bud nodded to Winters, indicating that he had only been knocked unconscious and still had a pulse.

A boy who looked only fifteen or sixteen years old was helping an old man. Winters noticed that the boy had a cut on his chin and blood at the corner of his mouth, and he understood what was going on.

Having nearly been defeated by such a young brat, Winters was filled with mixed emotions. He pointed his scimitar at the boy and asked, "You were the one who ambushed me just now, weren't you?"

"If I were to use a knife too," the boy, whose hands were chained, spat out a mouthful of blood and replied in broken Common Tongue, "why are you even asking me now?"

Seeing the chains on these people and their living quarters, Winters had a rough idea of ​​their situation. He sheathed his sword and asked calmly, "Are you slaves of this plantation?"

The dark-skinned, thin boy was furious upon hearing this and was about to lash out, but was stopped by the old man beside him.

“We are not slaves, we are enslaved free people.” The old man corrected Winters seriously and earnestly, word by word, and then asked, “But who are you?”

“We are free men who have not been enslaved.” Winters didn’t want to reveal too much to the other party.

"You...you are Venetians, aren't you?" The old man squinted and exposed their identity: "Free men enslaved by gold on the shores of the sea."

Winters chuckled dryly twice.

"So, it seems your republic has already captured Chiliu Island?"

Winters' eyelids twitched. This old slave man was surprisingly well-informed. He smiled and said calmly, "You'll find out."

“Oh…” Upon hearing Winters’ reply, the old man sighed softly, his expression darkening, but he quickly perked up again: “I understand. Don’t worry, we will work as usual tomorrow. Now, please leave, we need to rest.”

The old man spoke a few more words to the other slaves in an unfamiliar language, and the men, women, and children in the corner of the room stirred. Ignoring the presence of Winters and his group, they began to re-tie the cut curtains and spread mats on the floor, clearly preparing to go to sleep.

The Venetians were dumbfounded and bewildered as they were "invited" out of the wooden huts where the slaves lived.

"Oh, by the way, there's another wooden house to the north, and some people still live there," the old man added as he saw them to the door. Having gone inexplicably and come out just as inexplicably, the Venetians were all a little confused about what was going on.

Bard hadn't uttered a word since entering the room, and only after coming out did he say to Winters, "Judging from their physical characteristics, these people seem to be Herdese."

The soldiers nearby were even more confused when they heard the word 'Herd,' but the sergeant seemed to be deep in thought.

"The Heds? How come the Heds are slaves on the islands?" Winters wondered, recalling what he had learned from his books. "Aren't the Heds in the far west? Further west than the Republic of Platto."

“It is precisely because they are next to the Paratu that the Hed people are taken to the Taniri Adam slavery. The Paratu people have a tradition of selling captives as slaves, and they even specialize in kidnapping people to sell,” Bard explained succinctly.

Winters and the other soldiers then realized what was going on.

"These Paratulsi bastards are really capable of anything," a soldier scoffed. "Trying to enslave believers, aren't they afraid of going to hell?"

“The Hed people don’t believe in our God; they are heretics,” Bard corrected the soldier. He thought for a moment, then frowned and said, “But we really have a problem dealing with them. Slaving heretics can exploit loopholes in the provincial laws, but Venetia’s laws prohibit slavery in any form. So, strictly speaking, if we continue to imprison them, we will be breaking the law.”

“If we release them, we can just wait to die. This is an island, surrounded by the sea on all sides, where can they run to?” Winters said sullenly. “Hmph, this old man is shrewd. Even if we break the chains, they won’t run away. He has already seen through our true intentions.”

“Then we… this kind of estate, which is nearly a hundred hectares in size, must have at least thirty or forty slave laborers. The guards responsible for watching over them have all been killed by us…” Bard said with difficulty, “Then shouldn’t we have a few more people come out to take over the guards’ work?”

Winters took a deep breath: "First pirates, then bandits. Now, being a guard for slave owners is actually a decent job... Five of us keep watch over them, don't let them escape."

The soldiers chuckled.

"The old man said there are still some slaves elsewhere?" Winters said to Budd listlessly, "Take a few men and go take a look."

Bard nodded and led a few soldiers north.

But not long after,
Another soldier jogged up to Winters and reported, "Centurion, Warrant Officer Bard wants you to come over again."

Further north, in a shack, lived slaves who looked very different from the Heds, clearly resembling Winters and Bards.

The slaves here were all from the Gulf of Senas.

Here, the two warrant officers unexpectedly ran into an acquaintance.

When Winters arrived, he saw a man clinging to Bud's leg, crying his eyes out.

“You…you are…” Winters recognized the man at a glance, but couldn’t recall his name: “You are…you are that fat…captain of the Skua?”

——Cut——

The next day.

A gentle breeze in the morning.

Today, Chiliu Harbour is no longer the bustling place it once was. The once lively docks are now deserted, and there are no large ships in the bay.

Only a few seagulls remained on the pier, staring blankly at the undulating water.

Kalman, the owner of Red Pine Estate, arrived at Chili Port with a truckload of meat, vegetables, and wine, along with his nephew, to "entertain the troops."

It was ostensibly to entertain the troops, but in reality, it was just to check on their own farmhands. In a small to medium-sized plantation like Red Pine Manor, there were fewer than fifty slaves working in the fields, and only seven armed guards.

Outsiders might mistake the guards for private soldiers, but in reality, the guards of small plantations were essentially long-term laborers. Unlike slaves, they were paid and carried weapons. Capturing runaway slaves was a side job; the guards did light work during the week and also worked in the fields during the busy farming season.

After all, a small plantation couldn't afford to support a full-time army. Fortunately, it was an island with nowhere to escape, so slaves rarely ran away, and those who did manage to escape didn't go very far.

The Chiliu Island Council was, of course, fully aware of the situation at a small plantation like Red Pine Manor. Therefore, the Red Pine Manor's levies were mainly in the form of money and grain, rather than manpower.

Even so, Red Pine Manor was required to provide the council with two men between the ages of twenty and forty who were armed and skilled in using firearms, and to be responsible for their salaries and any potential pensions.

In the noisy tavern, two farmhands who had unfortunately drawn bad lots drank and complained to their employer. Kalman, on the other hand, offered words of comfort and made promises.

Kalman's nephew sat beside his uncle, never interrupting, but simply listening humbly. Whenever someone's glass was empty, he would immediately pick up the bottle and refill it.

Both guards found the humble and gentle young man quite agreeable. The older guard thought to himself, "The master's nephew was quite a little rascal when he was young. I never expected that he would grow up to be so successful after six or seven years."

……

The carriage glided along the stone-paved road, heading towards leaving Chiliu Port.

Kalman presented his pass, stamped with the council's seal, and passed through the checkpoint smoothly, just as he had come. Chiliu Harbor was now under strict martial law; civilians needed passes to enter or leave.

On the outskirts of the town, hundreds of conscripted laborers were working enthusiastically to widen and deepen the existing moat, and then use the excavated soil to build earthen ramparts around Chiliu Port.

Winters observed all of this and kept it in mind.

Of course, he saw more than just that.

Every few meters along the main road of Chiliu Harbor, there was a wooden stake, each topped with a human head. In the humid and hot weather, the heads had long since begun to rot, emitting a foul stench that attracted crows to peck at them.

These heads were all taken from the corpses of the Venetians.

The Chiliu Harbor Council used this method to declare victory to everyone on the island.

They were also intimidating the islanders, because there were not only stakes with "enemies" on them, but also stakes with "traitors" on them.

Winters stared at the wooden stakes, words failing to describe his extreme rage. He trembled violently, nearly grinding his teeth to powder.

“I have done everything you asked me to do, and the council will never let me off the hook.” Kalman asked in a humble voice, “Please let my wife and daughters leave and go to my father-in-law’s house. They will not reveal a single word, and I can stay and vouch for them.”

Through persistent questioning, Winters had learned the situation. After leaving the ambush area, the Venetia fleet immediately blockaded Red Sulfur Harbor. Winters' small group was surrounded by the Tanirians, who were now being surrounded by the Venetia fleet.

The Chiliu Island Council built camps at several possible landing sites, and the Third Army launched several probing attacks from the northern beach, all of which failed.

Winters judged that the Third Army's losses were not significant, because although the Red Sulfur Harbor Council claimed a great victory, it had not erected any new stakes in recent days, nor had it produced any other evidence to boast of its military prowess.

This proves that the Third Army Corps took away the bodies of the fallen soldiers, and that even if the attack failed, the retreat was orderly.

In recent battles against the Third Army, the main forces have been militia and the guards of the Tanilia Federation. The council has realized that the pirates are of little use and most of the pirate forces have been relegated to unimportant defensive positions.

"As long as you don't do anything that threatens our safety, your family's safety is fully guaranteed. We are not bandits; we are trapped here."

“This…” Kalman thought it over and over again before finally making up his mind. He stammered, “Perhaps I have a way… to get you out of here.”

I finished half of it last night and half of it this morning. I realized it's like when I was in school: the tests I do after 10 pm are full of careless mistakes the next day, but I'm completely oblivious to them because my thinking is sluggish at night. So I've discovered that "the later I write, the worse I write" (facepalm).

Thank you to the readers who voted for the book before, especially writersblock, righteousness and purity are koalas, and Yuan Hongjian.

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(End of this chapter)